Feb 272010

by Mel C. Thompson

The end of your world
was drawn up by Disney.
All good things can be broken
into bite-sized couplets.
I believe in your life
after a short Armageddon.
I believe in your copper plates
and presidential history poems.
God’s vengeance on your behalf
will come in Tarantino-like fullness
when your scriptural utterances
are force-fed to your hateful peers.
Let the bitches eat your hardbound
books for lunch and crawl to their
fly-by-night publishers weeping.
The deflating black-suited poet,
(we both know his credentials),
is a deadpan, versifying undertaker.
The liver-paté faux photographer
can rot in his upscale park-view home.
We will hold our grudges firmly in hand.
Forgiveness is for losers.